Chapter FIVE—The Pumpkin Princess of Ilth

As a knot of apprehension and sickly realization of the futility of his situation formed in his stomach, Jeanbleau made to break right and flee around the table without any further thought going forward regarding his situation.

Unfortunately, Andahl cut him off, reaching out wide with his spear.

Jeanbleau made to move left, but then Andahl, with lightning quick reflexes, thrust his spear against the rock wall, cutting off his path.

"Oh, let him go, dear Andahl!" the princess exclaimed. Jeanbleau saw her shrug from the corner of his eye. "He is of no consequence to you."

Jeanbleau didn't know whether to be thankful that she put forth some small effort to save his life or if he should be crestfallen over how dismissive she was of his skills.

In either event it mattered little, as Andahl reacted in such a manner as to not befit anything beneficial to Jeanbleau in the least as a ghastly grin formed on the troll’s big toothy face.

Jeanbleau stepped back and stopped when his heels hit the first step leading to the next level—his only possible escape!

"Andahl!" the princess called, her tone more stressed and filled with expectation.

Without waiting for the troll to strike first, Jeanbleau turned and charged up the steps, Andahl's cry of anger and lustful glee to murder chasing up after him.

Heart thundering, Jeanbleau’s boots slammed atop the woven mat at the top. He glanced about jerkily for an escape. More of Andahl's laughter followed as he charged toward the slits in the rock leading out to freedom.

The “evil adventurer” adventurer as the detractors at his trial had called him, reached into one of the opening, his hand barely breaking the face of the mountain outside where the cold air met his skin.

Heavy footsteps, slow and foreboding of Jeanbleau's death echoed into the chamber. Jeanbleau turned and glanced back toward the stone steps. Andahl's huge shadow was cast about the chiseled rocks more monstrous than even his own form could reveal.

"YOU ARE GOING TO DIE, FOOLISH ADVENTURER!"

Jeanbleau's stomach heaved and he swallowed, realizing the troll was taking his time. Jeanbleau thrust his shoulder through the crack and grunted. He wouldn’t make it through.

But he might, though not with his armor and cloaks he realized.

In a jerky panic, he stepped back, dropped his very-nearly-worthless sword and ripped his cloaks off. Then he unbuckled his belt and threw his armor onto the floor.

A deep and horrible laugh echoed up the stairs. "I HEAR THE PANICK OF A FOOLISH ADVENTURER ABOUT TO BE CRUSHED!"

"Ha!" Jeanbleau shot back, surprised his voice didn’t crack on the first word. "Think twice, troll!"

Another laugh, this one of derision, came back. "YOU CANNOT… ESCAPE."

Jeanbleau picked up his blade, then made to thrust himself through the crack when something suddenly began to glow. Jeanbleau squinted at it. It looked like a scepter of burnished black steel. In its nadir a white crystal pulsed.

With a gasp, he realized this must belong to the princess! He snatched it up, the light from the crystal shining about before quickly dimming.

From bellow he heard Andahl gasp. "STOP, HUMAN! DO NOT TOUCH THAT!"

A sudden fright—and thrill—shot through Jeanbleau. "As I said, troll," he proclaimed, "think twice—haha!”

Andahl's heavy footfalls thundered up the last few steps and he appeared in the entry. Bending, he lumbered into the chamber, but having no armor or other raiment that weighed or thickened his form, Jeanbleau had nothing stopping him from making his escape.

His heart soared, pounding with thunderous relief at the prospect of his getting away. Jeambleau lunged into the crack in the rocks as Andahl snarled after him. Jeanbleau was far too quick. He pushed himself out, intending to lean back so his boots could slide across the slanted rock face and—"Gaiiyayayaaaa!"

After slipping he was dragged down the face far faster than he thought possible and he landed into the window cutout bellow, his feet coming into contact stiffly.

Something shot through his shin, like a sharp object, and Jeanbleau heard something crack like wood.

Pain like a white hot knife pierced his leg and he cried out and fell back into the chamber where the princess was. As Jeanbleau howled, he heard the princess gasp.

"My staff!" she laughed. It was a feminine sound of exultant gratitude and happiness. "You got my staff!"

He glanced backed at her, the shrieking pain in his leg forcing a sharp wince over his facial features.

"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU, HUMAAAN!"

The princess's eyes widened and she gasped again as she glanced up toward the dark rocky ceiling covered in crystalline stalactites. In a sudden panic she beckoned to Jeanbleau quickly. "You! Whatever your name is—give me my staff!"

Jeanbleau raised the item as Andahl thundered down the steps.

But he wouldn’t be able to get it to her by simply reaching. He lay down on his back and locked eyes with the princess before he tossed her the staff, a slice of pain taking him in the leg again.

Andahl appeared on the bottom of the steps in a slathering rage just as the princess's magical item hit the rocks and rolled toward her cage.

The troll's eyes caught the movement and he reached out desperately as she picked it up. She laughed. "Yes!"

Pointing her device at Andahl, she commanded, "Do not move!"

But he had already lunged toward the cave, forcing Jeanbleau to jerk with surprise and sudden fright. His leg spasmed like the devils of the underworld, and what happened next, he missed almost entirely, but what Jeanbleau heard was a feminine shout and a sudden explosion—but not one of fire—and Andahl went flying into the window beside him.

With a heavy grunt his form stopped moving and his massive head fell onto his chest. Jeanbleau ground his teeth against the pain in his leg and gasped for air. With his wandering eyes, he found the princess in her cage.

She stepped back, her heeled boots clacking against the metal plate flooring before she twirled her staff and cried out an incantation in some language Jeanbleau had never heard before. A sudden burst of golden light shot out of the crystal head and hit the lock. It exploded and the cage door flew open, clanging loudly enough to make Jeanbleau jump.

She stepped out, the black feathers on her cloak fluttering with her movements. Jeanbleau used his arm and good leg to move away from the window half a pace. The princess looked down on him and flung her cloak open, whereupon she put her hands on her hips.

Jeanbleau's eyes widened when he saw what she was wearing underneath. Her boots were high heeled to the point that she stood a whole hand span higher than her true height. Those boots of black leather, shining in the candlelight, climbed to above her knees where the bare skin of her upper thighs began, save for her garter belts which climbed up past her bare hips to connect with her corseted bodysuit that pushed up the princess' breasts so magnificently as to reveal her most excellent cleavage, making it impossible for Jeanbleau's imagination not to begin stirring.

A dainty hand made a beckoning motion upward. Glancing up above her breasts and completely bare shoulders, he found her blue eyes and a knowing smirk on her lips.

With a deepening smile she said, "I see that you managed to find my face, good adventurer."

With very little in the ways that he might react to her discovering his completely obvious ogling, Jeanbleau chuckled dumbly as his cheeks flared hot.

And then a sudden spasm took him and he squeezed his eyes shut amid a grunt of sharp travelling pain.

"Oh!' she exclaimed and put a hand to her mouth. "My apologies. I almost forgot you're hurt." She bent down and looked at his leg. She made to touch him, but then jerked her hand back.

Amidst a stifled groan, Jeanbleau said, "Broken."

She nodded. "I'm—I'm going to see if I can heal you, okay?"

He nodded. She was a magician. Of course she could—

"GAAAHHH!"

"AHHHH! I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry!!!"

Jeanbleau gasped, trying his hardest not to cry out a second time like a whiny fool, but by the gods, what the devil had she just done to him?!

With the backs of her hands held up against her breasts, she muttered, "I'm not really the best of healers..."

Jeanbleau chuckled nervously as a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face. "Not great at avoiding capture by trolls either," he quipped.

Surely that would lighten the tense air and make her feel better about—

"Well I'm not the one who decided to break his leg in a buffoonish stunt trying to run like—"

"Hey!" he snapped as a sudden indignation struck him. "Try to show some gratitude! You could have mentioned—he gestured to the giant—"'Andahl' here is a troll in your quest pin!"

She looked at him with widening eyes, her magnificent bosom swelling as her mouth opened. Then it closed. Then she opened it again and pointed an adorably small forefinger in his face. "My quest stated level 5! What part of 'level 5 and above' do you not understand, adventurer?" She made a pouty face and crossed her arms underneath her breasts. "Hmmph!"

Jeanbleau bared his teeth to snarl a response when she added, "And incidentally, what is your level again anyway?"

"That doesn't matter," he equivocated.

"What? Of course it matters, you rookie!"

That stung.

"Tell me, adventurer."

"MY NAME IS NOT 'ADVENTURER!'"

She jerked her head back, a look of sudden surprise coming over her soft features. A pause—a bedeviled awkward one, followed for a moment.

After a time the princess finally clicked her tongue in frustration. "Well, what is your name? You can tell me that much, oui?!”

He looked at her, a small part of him hating her for being so godsdamned ungrateful. "It's Jeanbleau," he offered grudgingly. "My name is Jeanbleau..."

She looked at him, and to his surprise, she smiled and nodded. "Jeanbleau," she said, repeating his name.

His anger instantly subsided and—

The princess snorted, her hands smacking up to her mouth to cover the burst of laughter.

Nevermind.

Jeanbleau growled.

I've had enough of this wench!

He tried to stand, but his leg made another cracking sound.

"GAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!" he screamed.

"AHHHH!!!!” she screamed. “What are you doing?!!! Stay still!"

"How can I stay still when the woman I just rescued can't show an ounce of gratitude and humility? You wound my honor!"

She frowned. "But aren't you an exile?"

The lingering groan that came out of Jeanbleau's throat was worthy of a troll's vocal output. "Gods!" he snapped and gestured wildly with his hands. "There it is again!"

A throb of thunderous pain came across him and he stifled a howl.

"Oh my gods!" the princess cried, and she put her hands upon his shoulders. "Don't try to walk. Stay still. Don't move. I'll see if a can open a portal to my castle."

"You have a castle?"

She turned around to regard him. "Errr..."—she shrugged as if to say more or less—"I suppose you could call it that."

Jeanbleau nodded. "Can you heal me there?”

Her eyes widened and she nodded. "Oh yes!"

"Well," he said, gesturing. "Portal us away then."

Once again the princess nodded and resolutely she said, "Right then!"

She muttered some invocations and the crystal on her staff brightened. Jeanbleau gasped as a stream of magic shot forth in a whirl of bright white streams of light that enveloped them both before whooshing around them in a cyclone.

The world spun and the light plumed outward, the cold air hitting Jeanbleau as he landed in the grass atop a hill. The princess sstood beside him and fussed over his gasps of pain.

"Again, I am so sorry," she said.

Grinding his teeth, Jeanbleau had to work hard not to be too grumpy. "Just..." He sighed. " What is your name?"

"My name?"

"Yes, what do I call you?"

"Ah!" she exclaimed. Then with an outlandish flourish she added, "You may call me Lady Divine Benevolent Mistress of"—Jeanbleau rolled his eyes—"right!" She nodded firmly. "Just call me Amélie. Or you can call me Lady Montillier." She smiled. "Your choice."

"You're a lady, then?"

"Well yes," she said as if he were asking a dumb question.

So... She wasn't a "princess" after all. Just a silly girl with a bit of magical talent from some noble family from the-gods-knew-where.

With a heavy sigh he said, "Amélie, can you"—he grunted—"just get me to your... castle? I'm in a lot of pain."

"Oui!" she exclaimed. "Again, I am so sorry, Jean…?"—she smiled and Jeanbleau gave her a dangerous look—"Jeanbleau."

"Thank you."

Again she used her magic and this time they ended up splashing about a waist-deep river of slow moving water. The frigid nature of it made Jeanbleau gasp, as did Amélie.

“Oh gods!” she exclaimed, and bounded in the water. "Hold on!" She put her arms behind his back to keep him from sinking.

"I can swim!" he said as she fussed about him. Jeanbleau wasn't wearing any armor, so he wasn't in danger of sinking. But still, she fussed over him and he would have gotten cross...

If it were not for Amélie's distracting breasts directly in front of his face. He tried not to ogle her, but as they jiggled about by her strained movements and her inadvertent pressing up against his face, he found the moment highly distracting to say the least.

Finally, venturing not to make his interest in her body completely obvious, he stood on his good leg.

"Oh," Amélie said. " You can stand!"

Despite the cold waters and their bluing lips, Jeanbleau realized the cold water soothed the pain from his wound—at least somewhat. He nodded. "We should depart."

Visibly shivering, Amélie nodded back, lifted her wand and whirled them about again. Had Jeanbleau eaten recently, he was certain this magical method of travel would have caused him to retch already.

The world spun and Jeanbleau was dropped onto the ground where he landed on his good foot. He stumbled, but Amélie caught him. Daintiness was no match for his height and weight, and so he fell back anyway, the “princess” right along with him—and they ended up sprawled in the grass—the magician atop Jeanbleau with her left leg straddling him inadvertently.

Amélie cheeks heated, as he saw them redden, even in the lack of light. "Oh," she said dumbly. "I'm sorry."

"It's quite all right," Jeanbleau said hurriedly. "I am uninjured."

She nodded, her golden locks bobbing about the sides of her face. "Right... I'm going to get off of you now."

"That would be helpful," Jeanbleau said, his own cheeks heating as he cleared his throat, though he was regretful of her last words.

She was careful not to come into contact with his broken leg as she stood up. "Well," she said, dusting off her hands and body of the stray bits of grass that had stuck to her. "I will help you stand."

Jeanbleau put out his hand and Amélie took it. She yanked with a grunt of effort on her part, but her physical strength did little to move him.

"Wait," he said. The beautiful structure behind Amélie caught his eye. With a gesture, he said, "Your 'castle' I presume?"

"Huh? Oh!" She turned quickly to regard the structure, then turned back around. She chortled nervously and nodded.

"It's impressive," he offered, not overemphasizing his judgment on the matter. As castles went, it was pitiful, but this was no castle—it was a manor of wood and tiled roofs, the base a slanted stone bulwark five paces high. Within, the structure the rooms were illuminated and on the outer verandas no guards walked where red lanterns hung serenely in the evening air.

"Oh," Amélie said, and smiled. "Thank you, Jeanbleau."

He nodded. "Is there anyone else who can come out and assist me?"

She frowned, the look on her features of confusion and mild hurt.

By her sudden reaction Jeanbleau decided to amend his question by adding, "To make things... easier, I mean."

Amélie glanced back at her 'castle' and then said, "Well, I don’t know. There's Wuxyl"—"Excellent!” Jeanbleau said—"but he's a cat," Amélie finished.

They paused awkwardly. To break that silence Jeanbleau nodded and put out his hand, determined to finish this affair of getting into Amélie's castle.

"When I say, pull as hard as you can, okay?"

"Oh—uh—okay!"

He moved, positioning his good leg and free arm in a manner that would best suit him rising back to a standing position. Then he nodded, counting.

Amélie visibly tensed, swallowing as she gripped his hand. When he hit "three" he called, "Pull!"

She leaned back and pulled with both arms, grunting and kicking as Jeanbleau nearly fell but righted himself. As he came to the standing position that he wanted, Amélie continued pulling with all of her physical capabilities.

He lost balance and stumbled forward toward her.

"AHH!"

"OH!"

As he caught his balance with her help—they must have looked like two rookie ice skaters flailing about—Jeanbleau yanked his hand back reflexively from the soft mound he had inadvertently squeezed.

She glanced away, an embarrassed smile on her face. Jeanbleau was an idiot. He cleared his throat. "My sincerest apologies."

"No, it was—it was nothing. Let us go to the castle."

He nodded and allowed her to sidle beside him so he could put and arm over her bare shoulders. The touch of her soft skin was warm and inviting in the chill night. But whatsmore, Jeanbleau found that he wanted to touch her.

Jeanbleau hobbled forward at no small effort on Amélie's part. "Wuxyl!" she called. "I'm home.”

Jeanbleau glanced about, the warm and dry environment of the entry a welcome relief to being outside. Slippers and shoes sat silently in neat rows in the sunken entry.

They hobbled forward some more and came into an ante chamber with a large crackling hearth, a small cauldron on the boil with a wooden stool placed nearby.

“Here," Amélie said. "Sit here." She helped him onto the sofa and then glanced about for someone who wasn't there. "Wuxyl?" After the animal didn't arrive, she turned to Jeanbleau. "I'm sorry. He's not here. I'm going to go find him."

He nodded and watched the eccentric magician wander off. Jeanbleau glanced about as a clock ticked away. The room was completely silent except for that clock and the crackling fireplace.

After waiting for some moments, he rolled his eyes. Jeanbleau was sitting here with a broken leg and yet Amélie had run off to go find her pet cat!

No wonder that lumbering troll caught her. Magician or no, she's a ditzy scatterbrain.

With a heavy sigh and a wince from the returning throb in his leg, he listened to the crackling fire and the ticking grandfather clock.

He sighed heavily.

I forgot to sharpen my blade. He looked up into the smoke stained rafters overhead. They were thick and high. I have no standing to criticize Amélie.

"Mew!"

Jeanbleau turned his head as a black cat with golden eyes and orange stripes strode into the chamber. It looked at him and sniffed twice. He sighed. "And I suppose you're Wuxyl? That ditz of a magician is looking for you."

The cat regarded him and made a discontented face.

"Come on, cat—even you must realize it?"

The little beast yowled.

"Don't take that tone with me, fish face."

The cat stared at him and hissed.

“Then you’re a stupid cat if you don’t see it…”

"You're quite rude, human.”

Jeanbleau's eyes shot open as utter surprise took him. He glanced about. "Not possible."

"I assure you," the cat said as he stood up on his hind legs and sauntered to the stool perched beside the boiling cauldron, "'it' is more possible than you think."

The cat's voice was scratchy and thin with a growling quality to it. Jeanbleau glanced about for Amélie—who was surely hiding in some unseen location as she pranked him with this magician's trickery.

The cat stirred the pot.

"I am no trick."

Just then Amélie strode into the chamber and her eyes widened. A smile touched her pink lips. "There you are, Wuxyl. I've been looking for you. I see you've found our guest?"

"Indeed," the cat said. "Quite insulting this one is."

"All right," Jeanbleau said with an enduring laugh. "You have had your fun Amélie, but can we not see to my leg now?”

The cat looked at him and flicked his tail violently. "Do you see? No respect."

"It's not his fault, Wuxyl. Jeanbleau," she said. "This is Wuxyl. He's a rare demihuman."

"He's a talking cat!"

"I am not a cat!"

"Actually," Amélie said with a smile as she pointed a finger into the air, "he's a lesser feline."

“Lesser feline…” Wuxyl muttered as he trailed off in a dismissive snort.

"I've never heard of such a thing," Jeanbleau protested. Was she trying to get back at him for something he had said earlier?

"I might venture that there are a lot of 'things' you haven't heard of, human."

Amélie sighed lightly. "Wuxyl, he's hurt. Can you prepare a tonic?"

With a nod, Wuxyl said, "I already have, Lady Divine, Benevolent Mistress of Pumpkins and of Ilth." He bowed.

She clicked her tongue, smiled and swatted her hand at the air. "I told you, Wuxyl—here's no need for all that."

"Yes," he said with a nod. "I only used your full title for this lout's edification."

Jeanbleau's jaw opened like a fish, and like a fish gasping outside of water, he closed his stupid mouth. Either this was a superbly acted ruse—in which case Amélie was the greatest actress he had ever come across—or this was real.

He glanced between them.

There was no way she was this smart. Not a chance in all the hells or heavens! Wincing, he pushed himself off the sofa and landed on his knee across the tiled floors.

"Oh!" Amélie exclaimed, putting a hand to her mouth. "Are you all right?"

Jeanbleau ignored the fiery pain in his leg and thrust the knee of his good leg forward so that he could kneel properly.

"Forgive me, Princess," he said. "I have been unruly in your presence from the offset of our meeting and I wish to ask for your royal forgiveness."

"Um..." she noised uncertainly as she put a finger to her lip. As Jeanbleau stared at the tiles with his head bowed, she mumbled more uncertainties until Wuxyl tapped the ladle in his pot louder than need be. "Yes!" she added more firmly. "I forgive you, Jeanbleau."

"Jeanbleau?" the cat asked skeptically, and he snorted.

"Wuxyl!" Amélie admonished. "That is uncalled for. Not all of us are as fortunate as others."

Jeanbleau persevered, sighing heavily through his sudden frustration.

"Apologies, Princess," Wuxyl said.

"Anyway," Amélie added. "Lift your head, Jeanbleau."

He did as she commanded and he found Wuxyl looking on skeptically as he held out the long ladle with both arms. Amélie had her hands on her hips as she supported most of her weight on one leg.

"You are forgiven," Amélie said with a genuine nod.

"Thank you."

"Now," Wuxyl said, swinging the ladle around. "Drink this."

Jeanbleau looked at it and the princess nodded emphatically. The oozing bile reeked. "I'm not touching this," Jeanbleau declared as he made a face of disgust, one he hardly had to act out.

"Ha!" Wuxyl cried. "You're going to slurp this up, adventurer—and you're going to like it!"

Perhaps Jeanbleau had been mistaken about the princess playing pranks on him for revenge, but this Wuxyl definitely wanted Jeanbleau to taste his revenge.

"It's only bad for a moment," Amélie said. "Go on, you'll feel better and it will mend your leg in no time at all."

Jeanbleau glanced between the magician and her cat friend, the former of which was still oddly under and overdressed at the same time. "Do we... not have to set my leg first?"

With a smile Amélie shook her head and shrugged with both palms facing the rafters. "That's the beauty of magic. We don't."

Breathing in deeply, Jeanbleau looked at the greenish pool within the ladle that Wuxyl was continuing to thrust forward. He swallowed and at the beseeching request and encouragement in the princess' eyes, Jeanbleau slurped up the tonic and swallowed the substance as fast as he could.

In the frigid night so as traveller strode merrily along the road to his destination, passing the old Momoraitsu Shrine and suddenly glanced up in wonderment as a loud howl broke the silence of the night.

"OUUUAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"

With a shrug, the traveller pressed on, having already heard tails of a magician who now inhabited the old shrine.

Blinking, Jeanbleau opened his eyes to rays of warm morning sunshine. He had slept horribly, as Wuxyl had said he would, all the while hiding a smirk behind that little paw where sharp and curved claws regularly protracted and retracted.

Had the little fur ball been flexing?

Amélie had cast a pain relieving spell, and for a time it had worked. Jeanbleau fell asleep as soon as his chin hit the bed pillow, but sometime in the night that must have changed, because he awoke amidst fiery throbs that pulsed inside his bones.

He figured that pain must have been due to his bones reknitting back together. He had wanted to wake Amélie up, but couldn't bring himself to do it. And so he had endured that pain for what seemed like hours.

When it finally subsided, Jeanbleau had found himself in a hot sweat. Breathing heavily, he had closed his eyes and sleep took him.

Now, in the comfort of the soft covers and white pillows, he simply blinked, too tired to get out of bed. He sighed contentedly as warm sunshine shone across his face through the window, the dust motes coming from the dark rafters overhead falling silently like snow.

There were footsteps outside and suddenly there was a knock at the door. Jeanbleau bid the cat enter and was surprised when he saw Amélie in the door bearing a tray of hot items—breakfast tea and food no doubt.

Hurriedly he sat up in bed and glanced about to make sure no part of him was unduly exposed, but with his long nightshirt, that was unlikely in any event.

Amélie smiled and set the tray on the bed. "Here you go."

She tapped him on the arm playfully and he frowned. When Amélie looked at him quizzically, Jeanbleau said, "Should I not be the one serving you?"

She laughed. "Don't be silly. You are my guest. Oh fine. Think of it as a gesture of further thanks. You did rescue me after all."

That's right. I had almost forgotten.

He nodded.

"And on that note," Wuxyl said peevishly as he entered the bedchamber, "it's time to settle the quest payment."

Jeanbleau's heart sunk a little bit. He was looking forward to the coin. It would be a good start in what was otherwise a rock bottom beginning in a new world. "Wait, did you write the quest ticket?”

And I had snapped at her for not mentioning who or what Andahl was!

"What?" Wuxyl asked, his tail flicking out from behind his body suddenly. "Of course I didn't." He lifted his front paws into the air and wiggled them about. "No opposable thumbs."

Jeanbleau almost laughed.

"So you can smile, can't you, Jeanbleau?" It was Amélie, wearing a house robe trimmed in black fur down the hem of the opening, which was sashed shut, though that didn't stop her bust from pushing the hems apart near the top to expose the beautiful crack of flesh.

Wuxyl glanced at Jeanbleau and cleared his throat.

Jeanbleau shook himself. "You are correct," he said quickly. "The quest is finished."

Amélie glanced up toward the ceiling as if she had caught Jeanbleau in a compromising situation and was waiting for him to quickly and discretely rectify the situation. "About the money's...” she said, and trailed off.

Wuxyl looked at Amélie quickly, then regarded Jeanbleau with a critical eye.

"Yes?" Jeanbleau asked expectantly.

Amélie sighed and to the cat, she said, "We have to."

Yellow eyes widening, Wuxyl shook his head.

"What?" Jeanbleau asked.

Wuxyl then crossed his furry front legs. "No way."

"Tell me," Jeanbleau said. "No games."

With a contrite and heavily embarrassed look on her face, Amélie said, "We would love to pay you, Jeanbleau—and believe us, we have every intention to"—Wuxyl crossed his arms like he was some kind of gutter-rat gang boss—"it's just that right now we're..."

As Amélie winced, Jeanbleau narrowed his eyes. "You just won't."

That was right. Amélie was a magician and she could do whatever she wished with Jeanbleau—including but not limited to paying him long after he rendered his services. Why hadn't Luarr urged him to check the reputations of quest givers? Wasn’t she supposed to look at for new adventurers?

Was that even a thing?

"It's not that we 'won't'," Wuxyl said.

Still wincing, Amélie added, "It’s that we can't. You see, Jeanbleau. We're broke."

"Broke?" he asked, sitting up straighter. Instinctually he started looking for things he might sell to make up the price.

"Mhm," she noised with a nod. Then quickly she added, "We can pay you in installments. Would you be okay with that?"

It wasn't like he had a choice.

But he knew Amélie wasn't lying. That much Jeanbleau could tell. He glanced about and gestured. "All this and you have no money?"

"We fell into some extenuating circumstances," Wuxyl said.

"Big words for a house cat..."

"What did you just call me, human?" Wuxyl made a fist and shook it.

Amélie sighed. "Now that’s enough of that, you two. What he meant to say Jeanbleau, was that we incurred some debts."

Jeanbleau grinned. "I knew what he meant." Then realizing he wasn't getting paid, he sighed heavily.

"So," Amélie asked beseechingly, "you'll accept what we can offer you right now?"

The air of nervous apprehension on both of their faces was far too serious not to mean dire consequences of some sort. Perhaps as a consequence of not paying, the adventurer guilds would levy hefty fines, or perhaps ban them from posting quests.

Either way, Jeanbleau didn't know if those things were true, but judging by

Amélie and Wuxyl's expressions, he knew he wasn't that far off the mark. Had he been an evil man in truth, Jeanbleau could easily use this opportunity to extort the two right now—maybe get them to agree to a double pay out.

Shame I'm not the evil danger to society they made me out to be at my trial.

"All right," he finally said. "I'll take whatever pay you can afford in installments until you've paid the entirety of the sum you promised me."

Amélie's eyes widened. "Really?"

Jeanbleau sighed. So much for getting a quick leg up in this new land. He nodded. "Yeah."

With a sudden ear-piercing shriek, Amélie jumped, making Jeanbleau flinch with sudden surprise as she lunged forward and threw her arms around him. Jeanbleau fought the urge to look at her loose breasts as they nearly fell out of her robes.

Then she kissed Jeanbleau on the cheek. He found his eyes widening as he looked at her, her big blue eyes misting as his cheeks heated.

"Now don't go getting too frisky, you hear?”

Amélie wiped her eyes and glanced back at Wuxyl who was pointing a menacing finger at them both. She laughed. "Oh, don't worry about that, Wuxyl—Jeanbleau's not interested in the things women have to offer!"

"Very good," Wuxyl said with relief.

Had Jeanbleau been sipping on his tea, he'd have accidentally boiled off his manhood. "WHAT?!”

Amélie laughed and swatted the air. "There's no need to be shy, Jeanbleau! I knew it the moment we met!" She nodded fervently.

Gods!

"But it's not the case!” he protested. “I like—"

"Well!" Wuxyl interjected. "Good we got that little tidbit wrapped up." He dusted off his paws. "I'm hungry! Do we have any fish?”

He turned and sauntered out of the room.

Amélie smiled at Jeanbleau, then turned to follow Wuxyl out of the room. "There's still some fish in the kitchens."

"Ah-haha!"

Breathing a heavy sigh, Jeanbleau's eyes fell to the covers.

"Oh! Jeanbleau!"

He nearly jumped out of the covers as she startled him suddenly. "Yes?"

"You will stay, won't you?"

Frowning in confusion, he asked, "Stay?"

"Yes, here in Momoraitsu Shrine of course!”

He swallowed, taken aback by her question. "If you're offering lunch, then I suppose—"

"Not lunch, silly!" She giggled. "I mean stay here, with me and Wuxyl. You're new to Ōkina Basho. You're not already staying somewhere, are you?"

"I—well... no, I am not."

Amélie smiled. "Good! Then it's settled! I'll go tell Wuxyl you've joined the party!"

"Wait!" he called, his hand left in the open air like his words as Amélie disappeared once again.

Jeanbleau took a deep breath and pushed his hair back with both hands. Then he sniffed with amusement and relief.

As a start to his new beginning, things were going well—and now he had friends. With a smile still on his face, Jeanbleau got out of bed and put some clothes on.

Why on this earth is she called the Pumpkin Princess?

Then he left to go join the others of his new party, his leg not paining him in the least.

Jeanbleau smiled.

Then he left to go join the others of his new party.